iPoem · 5126.8319.738.253 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

Based on Raymond Queneau’s A Hundred Thousand Billion Poems, The 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem is a non-commercial artistic project inspired by Queneau’s work and the tradition of literary variation it inaugurated.
→ iPoem 5126.8319.738.253 (no. 793,649) was generated on September 12, 2026 at 2:42 am
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